Be My Baby
by nenna-page
Summary: Stucky Dirty Dancing AU That was the summer of 1963, when everybody called me "Stevie", and it didn't occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when I couldn't wait to join the Peace Corps, and I thought I'd never find the right partner. That was the summer we went to S.H.I.E.L.D.
1. Big Girls Don't Cry

That was the summer of 1963, when everybody called me "Stevie", and it didn't occur to me to mind. That was before President Kennedy was shot, before the Beatles came, when I couldn't wait to join the Peace Corps, and I thought I'd never find the right partner. That was the summer we went to S.H.I.E.L.D.

The Four Seasons are crooning through the radio, the windows are rolled down, the sun is shining, and Steve has his sketchbook open in his lap. Steve thinks, could life get any better than this? Oh yeah, it _could_—if they weren't 100 miles out of New York City, on the way to stay at some family resort. _Bye-bye, Brooklyn._

He can see his sister Darcy combing her bangs through the rear-view mirror, chattering to his mom about… god knows what. Eyes flicking between the sketch in his lap and Darcy's profile, he can see that he didn't get her jaw just right. Turning the pencil and erasing half of her face, and just as he's about to put his pencil back to the page and try again, he hears his mom singsong, "_We're here! _Oh Darce, look at all the…"

Looking up, he sees they're pulling into the driveway of S.H.I.E.L.D Resort. _Finally_. There's people everywhere, milling about on the lawn, unpacking cars, carrying luggage. Through the open car window, Steve can hear the echo of a man speaking through a megaphone to the crowds of guests.

"_Ping-Pong in the west arcade, softball in the east diamond. All you Sandy Koufaxes, get out there! Complimentary dance lessons in the gazebo!"_

Darcy turns in her seat to face Steve and says with a wink, "Did'ja hear that Stevie? Dance lessons! Maybe you can learn the tango."

Rolling his eyes, Steve scowls, "That's just _dandy_, Darce, but you know I can't dance worth a dime. And there is no way I'm goin' to dancing class with either of ya, _no way._"

Ignoring Steve in favor of eyeing a fellow vacationers luggage, Darcy gasps, "Oh my God, Look at that! Mom, I should've brought the coral shoes. You said I was taking too much."

With a sympathetic smile, with only the slightest hint of exasperation, Sarah replies, "Well, sweetheart, you did bring ten pairs."

With a melodramatic sigh, Darcy murmurs, "But the coral shoes matched that dress. It's a tragedy."

With eyes practically in the back of skull, Steve snorts at his sister, "This is not a tragedy, Darcy. A tragedy is three men trapped in a mine or police dogs in Birmingham. Monks burning themselves in protest."

Slowly turning to look at him, with an eyebrow cocked, and pursed lips, she snaps, "Butt out, Stevie. You're too serious, sometimes, I swear."

"_Okay, we got horseshoes on the south lawn in_ _minutes! We've got splish-splash the water class down by the lake. We have the still life art class. We got volleyball and croquet. And for you older folks, we got sacks!"_

As Steve, Darcy, and Sarah are looking out over the lawn, a deep voice called out "Doc!" Steve thought nothing of it until his mother turned around and called back, "Nick!"

"Nick" turned out to be an extremely large man. With an eye patch. Baffled, Steve looks to his sister, who's holding back a giggle, snorting when she catches his eye_._ Behind Nick Fury, Steve noticed, was a boy around his age, with a resort shirt on his back.

"Doc, after all these years I finally got you up on my mountain."

"So how's the blood pressure, Nick?" Sarah says with a knowing smile.

Turning to Steve and Darcy, Nick chuckles and says, "I want you kids to know…if it were not for this woman, I'd be standing here dead."

Unsure of what was happening, and moderately frightened of this one-eyed man, Steve forced out a chuckle.

Turning to the kid behind him, Nick snapped, "Barton, get the bags."

Clint replies, "Right away, Director" and hurries to the trunk to grab the luggage.

Trailing behind Clint, Steve helps him take the bags out of the trunk. Clint turns to him with a sly grin on his face and says, "Hey, thanks a lot! You wanna job here, Blondie?"

Ducking his chin to try and hide his blush at the attention, Steve shyly smiles at the ground. It's not everyday that handsome young men notice him when his sister's around. Steve decides, _today is a good day_.

While Steve is momentarily distracted by sandy brown hair, and surprisingly well-defined biceps, he faintly overhears Nick telling his mom and sister, "I saved the best cabin for you and your kids…"

Bending over to pick up the bags, Clint directs a smirk at Steve, and probes, "So Blondie, you got'a name or what, huh?"

"Uhh… yeah?" Steve stutters, distracted. _Shit. Good first impression, dumbass,_ Steve thinks, cursing his slowness.

"Well are you gonna let me in on the secret, or am I gonna have to keep callin' you Blondie?"

Ears burning, Steve answers, "Steve. Or well, I guess everyone calls me Stevie…" instantly mourning his choice to refer to himself as _Stevie_. Geez, could he be any more of a heel? Cursing his perpetual awkwardness, he forces out a chuckle, in hopes that Clint will think he was joking.

Oblivious by Steve's inner conflict, Clint smiles, and replies, "Stevie… I like that. It suits you, shortstop," chuckling as he takes the bags, walking away.

_I'm not that short_. Hackles raised by the jab at his height, Steve returns to his family's side, tuning into the conversation.

He hears Nick midsentence, saying,"…there's a merengue class in the next few minutes, greatest teacher," and with a wink to Darcy, "used to be a Rockette!"

Laughing, Sarah replies, "It's my first real vacation in six years, Nick, take it easy!"

"Three weeks here, and it'll feel like a year, Sarah," the Director replies, with an air of confidence of someone who is always right.

_This is mortifying._

Dragged there by Darcy, Steve finds himself at a gazebo. Learning the merengue.

The instructor, a gorgeous redhead, who introduced herself as Natasha, is at the front of the group leading the lesson.

"1-2-3-4, stomp those grapes and stomp some more, 1-2-3-4, listen to the music people!"

Completely and utterly lost, Steve is stumbling beside Darcy, tripping over his two left feet, knocking into innocent bystanders. Ankles catching, Steve staggers in the wrong direction, knocking into Darcy.

"1-2-3-4, move your caboose and shake it loose! 1-2-3-4, stomp those grapes!"

Righting himself and turning to his left, he comes face to face with a middle-aged man, much too close for comfort, and quickly turning the other way, he bumps hard into Darcy, causing her to stumble.

"Oh, c'mon Stevie, you heard the lady, stomp the grapes," laughing at his poor rendition of the merengue, Darcy twirls her skirt and jumps right back in with the rest of them.

"Now c'mon men, follow me into a round robin," Natasha calls out, "Ladies the inner circle!"

Kidnapped by the round robin, Steve finds himself prancing around in a circle with a group of elderly men. _It's a dream come true_.

In the middle of all the commotion, is Natasha, yelling out encouragement to her near-mediocre students: "C'mon ladies, god wouldn't have given you maracas if he didn't want you to shake 'em!" punctuated by the gleeful shake of her own maracas. Which is then punctuated by the shake of several pairs of maracas, all eye-level with Steve. Drily, Steve thinks, _I lied before. This is my dream come true._

Natasha calls out, "Okay ladies, when I call stop, you're going to find the man of your dreams!"

"Stop!"

Aiming for Darcy, someone latches on to Steve's arm from behind and thrusts him into their arms. Looking down, Steve comes face-to-face with the oldest woman he has ever seen.

"Remember, he's the boss on the dance floor, if nowhere else!"

As that's said, his dance partner, pulls him closer than is strictly appropriate, and gives him a wink. Holding back a laugh, Steve winks back at his partner, giving the old girl a thrill. Well, at least _someone_ likes him.

As the class moves into the next segment of the class, _the salsa_, Steve quietly slips away from Darcy and the rest of the class. Walking down the stairs of the gazebo, Steve wanders in search of a nice place to sit and just, relax for a second. He sees a dirt path that leads into the brush of the forest surrounding the resort and follows it. Walking through the underbrush, he comes out of the trees and onto the sandy shore of a lake, with a beaten up picnic table, right at the edge of the water.

Sighing, he takes a seat and stares out at the waves, watching the whitecaps curl and disappear. Eyes stinging, he curses and rubs at them with the backs of his knuckles, pressing down to stop any tears from falling. This shouldn't affect him so much, he should be used to this by now- no one ever notices him. He's not the man of anyone's dreams, who was he trying to kid?

Speaking out loud, to the sound of the tide brushing the shore, he mutters, "I don't know why I thought it would be any different here, than in Brooklyn. Still just skinny, scrappy, Steve Rogers.."

Why is it so wrong, or so hard for someone to want him? All he wanted this summer, was for someone to notice him, for a handsome stranger to woo him, to sweep him off of his feet. Just once in his life, that's all he's asking for here.

Swiping at his eyes, he lets out a self-deprecating laugh, "What a pity party, Rogers, geez."

He knows what his mom would say if she could hear his thoughts right about now. She'd tell him to stop feelin' sorry for himself, and go _do_ something about it. Don't just sit around waiting for something to happen, but to _make_ it happen. Steve thinks that maybe, just maybe, it's a bit harder than it sounds.

Looking up at the setting sun, he figures he should head back up to the cabin, it's just about dinner time, and Sarah will wring his neck if he's late.

Later that night, after the tragic merengue lessons and the self-indulgent pity party, after they'd settled in, Steve pops into the living area where his mom and Darcy were sitting, leafing through magazines.

"I'm going up to the main house to look around, Darce, you wanna join me?"

Looking up, Darcy smiles and declines, "Sorry Stevie, I think I'm gonna stay here with Mom and get a good nights sleep. There's waterskiing lessons tomorrow morning, and I ain't missing that for an extra hour of sleep."

After exchanging a few words, and agreeing not to be back too late, Steve's out the front door, and skipping down the cabin steps.

Walking around the balcony of the main house, Steve hears Director Fury's voice through a cracked open door. Not wanting to be seen, just in case, Steve peers through the small opening.

Nick is standing with the wait staff gathered around him, in what looks to be the dining area, "Now, there are two kinds of help here. You waiters are all college guys, and I went to Harvard and Yale to hire you. And why did I do that? Why? I shouldn't have to remind you this is a family place. Keep your fingers out of the water, hair out of the soap, and show the goddamn daughters a good time. _All of _the daughters. But not too good of a time, I hope. Schlepp 'em to the terrace, show 'em the stars, romance 'em any way you want-"

Nick's speech is interrupted by a deep voice, with a Brooklyn drawl, calling out "Ya' got that guys?"

Following the voice, in a pair of sunglasses, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, is the most beautiful boy Steve has ever laid his eyes on.

Unable to tear his eyes away from the boy, he hears rather than sees Nick call out,

"Hey, hold it! Hold it," causing the boy to turn around, crossing his arms over his chest, as Nick scoffs, "Well, if it isn't the entertainment staff. Listen wiseass, you've got your own rules—dance with the daughters, teach 'em the mambo, the cha-cha, anything they pay for,"

Waving his finger in the boys face, he says, "That's it. That's where it ends. No funny business, no conversations, and HANDS OFF," and starts to walk away.

The guy standing beside the brown-haired boy turns to him and jokes in an English accent, "It's the same at all these places. Some tail in the woods, but no conversation," while wagging his fingers in a mock of Director Fury's earlier actions.

Steve, noting the jokers fine black hair and good looks, thinks, _why are all of the staff here so goodlooking? This is ridiculous. Like seriously, what the hell?_

Spinning around, Fury snaps, "Watch it, Laufeyson," and stalks out of the room. The guys all start to disperse, when one of the waiters turns to sunglasses and taunts him, while clearing the table.

"Can you keep that straight, Bucky? What you can't lay your hands on?"

Getting up into the guys face, Bucky retorts, "Just put your pickle on everybody's plate, college boy, and leave the hard stuff to me."

For a brief second, Bucky's eyes flick to where Steve is peeking into the room. Breath catching in his throat, Steve spins away from the door, and presses his back against the wall. When no one comes looking for him, Steve lets out his breath, unaware that he was holding it.

_Bucky. _Thinking of the way that t-shirt clung to his arms and chest, Steve tips his head back against the wall, and curses.

Pushing off from the wall, Steve heads back through the grounds, back to his cabin. That night while he's sleeping, if he dreams of brown hair, tanned skin, and the way Bucky's shirt stretched across his chest… well, no one has to know.


	2. Them? They're the dance people

Waking up to the obnoxious sound of an alarm, Steve groans trying to free his arms from the tangled blankets so he can stop that_ goddamn beeping._ Darcy must have set it, because he would've remembered setting an alarm for seven a.m. _Oh wait, _Steve thinks wryly, _I wouldn't have fucking set one._ Climbing out of bed, he pads out to the kitchen in his sleep pants to join his family.

Looking up from her place at the table, Darcy squawks out a laugh when she sees Steve. Sarah turns in her seat and lets out a small chuckle at the sight of her irate son.

Still cackling, Darcy, putting on an over exaggerated drawl asks, "Well good morning, Stevie. What are you doing up _so_ early this fine morning?"

"Y'know Darce, this is cruel and unusual punishment, even for you," Steve replies with a glare.

With a laugh, Sarah chimes in, "Oh Stevie, don't be so sore, your sister's just excited to spend the day with you," and with a sly look to Darcy she finishes, "and anyhow, she didn't set your alarm, I did."

"Now, Stevie, go get dressed… in something _nice… _none of those cutoff jean shorts. We're going down to the dining hall to get breakfast, and then you two are free to gallivant around where you please. Chop, chop, honey, the days a' wasting!"

How is she so damn cheerful this early? Steve thinks, grumbling on his way up the stairs. And his cutoffs are _just_ _fine_, thank you very much. But, knowing when and when not to disobey Sarah, he knows this is one of the _when not's. _Rifling through his suitcase, he finds the single pair of trousers he brought on the trip, wrinkled, but otherwise suitable. He pulls them on and finds a blue button up, hastily doing up the buttons, and slipping on his battered sneakers. Well…you can't please everyone.

The scary eye-patch man, Nick, meets them at the entrance to the dining hall and escorts them to their table. Like a gentleman, he pulls out Sarah and Darcy's chairs, and helping them to scoot back into place under the table. There's a waiter standing by, and when Steve gets a closer look at his face, he finds that he recognizes this guy.

It's the dark-haired guy that he saw the other night… In his mind he recalls Bucky calling him college boy, and the way Bucky's voice sounded, so thick, and sweet… Shaking his head, Steve straightens up in his chair, suddenly aware of the way his whole body was leaning forward, mouth open, trying to taste that mouth in his daydreams.

His inappropriate fantasies were interrupted by Nick speaking to their waiter, "This is Mrs.," chuckling, he corrects himself, "Dr. Rogers, and her daughter Darcy, and son Stevie,"

Turning to his family, Nick introduces the young waiter "This is Brock Rumlow, Yale Medical School. Brock, these people are my special guests, give them anything they want."

After a meal of every single breakfast food you could ever imagine, Steve was stuffed. By the looks of it, so were Darcy and Sarah.

Sighing, regretful eyes flicking over all of their half-full plates, Sarah comments, "Oh dear, look at all this leftover food," turning to Steve she asks him, "Are there still starving children in Europe, Stevie?"

Unimpressed, he replies, "Uh, try Southeast Asia, Ma."

While Brock is clearing the table, Sarah turns to him and says, "Brock, my Stevie would like to send his waffles to Southeast Asia. Anything we don't finish, you wrap up for us, dear."

While Brock is chuckling at his expense, Sarah turns to Nick, who seems to have appeared out of nowhere, which is surprising due to his large stature and his eye patch, and tells him, "Nick, Stevie here is gonna change the world."

Smiling at Steve, he turns to Darcy, and asks, "What are you going to do, missy?"

Before Darcy can get a word out, Steve turns a smug smile on her, and answers, "Oh, Darcy is going to decorate it."

Turning her head to glare at him so fast, Steve thought her neck was going to snap in two, she opens her mouth to retort, but Brock beats her to it, "Looks like she already does."

Making a face at Brock and Darcy, who are now making eyes at each other, Steve rolls his eyes. Who does this guy think he is? Steve heard what he said the other night about the girls, and how he treated Bucky and the other entertainment staff… Steve doesn't like him. Not one bit.

Nick, still talking to Sarah, turns and motions to someone from across the room. A guy who looks to be around Steve's age, sidles up next to Nick.

"Sarah, I'd like to introduce you to my grandson, Tony Stark. He goes to the Cornell School of Hotel Management."

His grandson, Tony, is not at all what'd you expect from someone who's Nick Fury's grandson. He's lanky; he's got a weird complicated moustache _thing _going on, and he's walking around like _he_ owns the place, not his grandfather.

Smiling at Tony, Sarah says, "How wonderful, Tony, Stevie's going to go to Mount Holy Oak in the fall!"

Slowly turning his gaze to Steve, Tony lets his eyes run over him for a moment before replying, "Oh, great," and giving Steve a wink and a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

Eyes widening, Steve blushes and looks down into his lap. What. The. Hell.

After breakfast, and Steve's strange first encounter with Tony Stark, he finds himself down at the beach with Darcy. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and it would be such a beautiful day except. Except Steve has waterskies strapped to his feet, his hands grasping the towrope, about to be pulled by a speedboat. Why the fuck did he think this was a good idea.

Behind him on the shore, Darcy's cheering him on like madwoman, drawing attention to this soon-to-be disaster.

"You can do it, Stevie! Show those waterskies who's boss, don't chicken out now! It's all in the wrists, big brother, yeah!"

_Jesus._ If the entire population of the beach hadn't already noticed him, they sure as hell did now. Now that he has an audience, there's no way he's backing down now—Steve can't resist a good challenge, now matter how much trouble it'll get him into.

Bracing his hands more securely on the bar of the rope, when the boat driver calls back to ask him if he's ready, Steve steels his jaw and nods an affirmative. At this, Darcy lets out a loud "yeah" in his honor.

Unsure of whether his success is owed to skill, or beginners luck, Steve doesn't really give a rat's ass. He did it, and he's proud. Maybe even a little smug, which of course has absolutely _nothing _to do with the fact that as he was propelled back towards the beach, he spotted someone in the crowd. A certain someone with brown hair, tanned skin, muscles for _days_, and a penchant for pissing people off, who was definitely watching Steve's success. Well, maybe.

As he makes his way over to Darcy, he can see that stood a few feet behind her, is Bucky. Who still hasn't taken his eyes off of Steve. Or well, maybe hasn't, he has his sunglasses on so it's hard for Steve to tell. But he's definitely maybe still watching Steve, with a grin on his face.

_But my god, _Steve thinks, _how is it that he's even more beautiful when he smiles?_

When he reaches Darcy, she throws her arms around him in a hug, rocking him from side to side, laughing. After burying his face in her hair, hiding his blush, Steve looks over her shoulder hoping to get another glimpse of Bucky's smile, but all he sees is his back, moving in the opposite direction.

Little did Steve know, that the moment he was engulfed in Darcy's embrace the smile from Bucky's face crumpled, his chin dropped to his chest, and with a sad smile, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Later that night somehow found Steve in the dance hall, back in his trousers and button up, standing with no one other than Tony Stark. One second he was with his mom and Darcy, and the next they've disappeared, and Tony has appeared in the wake of their disappearance.

Standing awkwardly next to Tony, as he preens, and strokes his moustache, winking at passersby, Steve wishes Darcy was here to diffuse… whatever kind of tension is happening right now.

"Soooooo…" drawing out the word, and turning to look at Tony, Steve waits for him to say something, _anything_.

Pushing his rose sunglasses down his nose, he peers at Steve over them, and asks, "So, you're going to major in English?"

Why is he even wearing sunglasses in here? We're in a dark room, and it's nighttime, why does he need them? And why are the lenses rose? As Steve thinks over his many questions on Tony Stark's character, he's pegged in the head by one of the many balloons falling from the rafters.

Scowling at the sudden assault by a balloon, Steve turns to Tony and replies, "No, Economics of Underdeveloped Countries. I'm going into the Peace Corp."

Seemingly pleased by his answer, Tony smirks at him and tells him, "After the final show, I'm going to go on a road trip with a couple of busboys, see as much as I can before I start school in the fall. Cross-country, the whole shebang."

Steve smiles and nods in response, and continues to search the crowd for Darcy. It's not that Tony's not a nice guy, a bit eccentric, but… he's not Bucky.

As soon as thought crosses Steve's mind, Bucky and the redhead dance instructor cut through the crowd and into the center of the room. Bucky's got a tuxedo on, and Natasha looks stunning in a strappy pink dress. Steve, unable to take his eyes off of Bucky, and how good he looks in a suit, he barely notices Natasha as she takes Bucky's hand and twirls in a fast spin.

As Natasha and Bucky start to dance, the crowd clears around them, forming a circle, watching them dance. So _that's_ what Bucky does around here, he's a dance instructor. Steve is once again held captive by Bucky's body, and the way that he moves, the strength that he holds in his frame. Steve wagers that Bucky could hold him up by hips, without effort, his legs wrapped around that solid waist… _God_, feeling his cock starting to fill, Steve wills away a hard on.

Bucky and Natasha are a force to be reckoned with on the dance floor as they dance the mambo, as a pair they're a force of nature, graceful, yet sharp and fast. Steve watches as they twist and turn, as Natasha dips backwards, almost bending in half, the way that the tendons in Bucky's strain show when he holds Natasha in a lift.

Tony has his eyes trained on Bucky and Natasha, not looking happy about what he sees. Curious, Steve leans in playing oblivious, and asks, "Who's that?"

With a curl of his lip, Tony says, "Them? They're the dance people. They're here to… keep the guests happy," with another frown, Tony continues, "They shouldn't be showing off like that here, that doesn't sell lessons."

Steve tries to school his expression, to keep the awe and the desire off of his face, while Tony continues to look like a disappointed parent at the pair.

Watching the way they move, the way that they're like one body, moving together, Steve desperately wishes he could dance. That he could move like that, could _look_ like that.

Steve notices Nick moving through the crowd, shaking hands, and playing host. He also notices the way the easy smile drops off of his face when he sees Bucky and Natasha in the middle of the floor, and the way that he drags his hand across his neck. _Cut. _

Bucky and Natasha seem to get the message, and hastily break apart, grabbing the first people they find, and show them the steps to the mambo.

Sarah appears at Steve's side out of nowhere, and smiles at him and Tony, asking, "Hi boys, are you two having fun?"

Tony smiles, all of the disappointment from earlier wiped away, and answers, "Oh yeah, Dr. Rogers. _Loads._ I've actually got to excuse myself, I have to go get things set up in the activities hall," turning to Steve with a glint in his eye, he asks, "Say Steve, how would you like to help me get things started?"

Before Steve can deny, Sarah jumps in and says, "Oh, sure he would, young man!"

And that is how Steve found himself in a wooden magician's box, pretending to be cut in half, by a man in a ridiculous turban, and an even worse sense of humor. At the end of the show, Steve stands next to the MC, who proceeds to hand him a chicken with a bow around his neck, for "being a good sport." Oh joy.

After the tragic magic show, and his loss of dignity, Steve decides to take a walk around the resort and explore. He stops by his cabin and changes into his cutoff shorts and a t-shirt, and heads back out to continue his evening stroll. As he's walking behind the main house, he sees a sign that reads "STAFF QUARTERS. NO GUESTS PLEASE."Well, didn't Nick Fury say _anything _for his guests? Steve believes he did.

Down the path to his right he sees a barn-like building, with bright lights and music radiating from the inside. Curious, he takes a few steps closer and is about to cross the small bridge that leads to it when a voice behind him says, "Hey! How did you get down here?"

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Steve whirls around, relief flooding through him when he sees that it's Clint, from the day before. Clint is carrying three watermelons, with a scowl on his face directed at Steve.

"I walked."

"Go back."

Here, let me help you with those!" Steve replies, taking a watermelon from Clint to lighten his load.

"No-"

"What's up there?"

"No guests allowed, house rules."

"C'mon Blondie, go back to the playhouse. I saw you standin' with the little boss man," Clint retorts, and starts to do a weird suggestive dance with his watermelons.

Smile dropping, Steve shoves the watermelon back into Clint's arms, and turns to walk away.

From behind him, he hears Clint sigh and call out, "Can you keep a secret?"

With a smug smile, Steve walks back over and takes the melon back from Clint.

"Listen Stevie, your mom would kill you if she found out, and Nick would kill _me."_

"Yeah, yeah, get a'move on, melon boy," Steve snorts.

Clint looks at him sideways, "Hey Blondie, how old're you anyways, huh? You're not… y'know a litt-"

Steve grits his teeth and manages, "I'm 18, asshole." People always think he's some little kid. He is an adult. A mature adult, who doesn't need parental permission or supervision. _An adult._

"Okay, okay, geez, just makin' sure… you're a little spitfire, huh? Who would'a thought with a face like that?" Chuckling, Clint bumps his shoulder into Steve's, and motions for Steve to follow him up the stairs.

Once they reach the door of the building, Clint shimmies his melons up further into his arms, and turning around, bumps his behind against the doors, causing them to swing open.

As the doors open, music blares out and after looking inside, Steve is a little unprepared for what he sees.


	3. Well, You're Driving Me Crazy

Bodies everywhere. That's what Steve sees behind the door. Bodies pressed close, grinding and writhing together, dancing to the music. With wide eyes, and his mouth slightly ajar, Steve watches the couples move.

Wrapped in each other's arms, thighs slotted between thighs, rolling hips, and pure joy. That's the only possible description for what Steve sees before him. Eyes still wide, he turns to Clint and hesitantly asks, "Where'd they learn to do… do that?"

Turning to Steve, with a huge grin on his face, Clint replies, "Where? I dunno, Blondie. Kids are doing it in the basements back home, I guess," with a wink at Steve, making him blush ever more than he already was.

Catching on to Steve's discomfort, Clint smirks and does his inappropriate melon dance again, and asks, "Why? You wanna try it, Stevie?"

Adamantly shaking his head, _no, _and averting his eyes, Steve stutters out, "N-no, I'm good."

Laughing, Clint hoists his melons higher, and starts to walk in, calling back to Steve, "C'mon, Stevie, we're missin' all the fun!"

Startling a little, Steve rushes after Clint, not wanting to be caught in the throng of gyrating hips.

Holding tightly onto his melon, Steve wades through the crowd after Clint, careful not to be on the receiving end of any… _inappropriate advances_, and staying far away from any and all thrusting hips. He passes one couple, the girl bobbing her head with her hands fisted in her fella's shirt collar, and the guy must notice how uncomfortable Steve is, assuming that his expression is one of utter terror. Shooting him a smirk, the extremely large blonde man flicks the tip of hat at Steve, and laughs at the expression on his face.

Reaching the other side of the room, _finally,_ Steve hands off his watermelon to Clint who places it on what Steve assumes to be the snack table. Now that they're in the promise land, and Steve doesn't have to dodge any flying body parts, he turns to watch the crowd again.

"Can you imagine dancin' like this on the main floor? The family fox trot, ha, Fury would close the place down before he ever let that happen."

Turning to face Clint, Steve's about to reply when a shift in the crowd grabs his attention. Walking through the front door is none other than Bucky and Natasha, still in their dance getups from earlier that night.

As Bucky walks in the room, he grabs a beer from a dancer's hand and takes a long swig. After returning it, he continues to make his way through the crowd, stopping every few feet and pulling someone in for a dance… or well, more for a few rolls of his hips, while still holding Natasha's hand.

Soon Bucky and Natasha are in the center of the room, and after a quick twirl for Natasha, they're dancing like the rest of the group, much to Steve's dismay (or pleasure, he's unsure at this point). Seeing the way Bucky is moving against Natasha, his thigh between hers, and the steady roll of their hips, Steve can almost feel his skin turning green.

While he's watching the two dance, Clint pops up by his ear, and tells him, "That's my cousin, Bucky Barnes, he got me the job here."

Surprised, Steve whips around to face Clint. _Cousins?_ Well, this could either be a good development, or an extremely bad one. After catching a glimpse of Bucky, Clint's familial ties are all but forgotten, as Steve is captivated by the sheen of sweat shining on Bucky's chest through his half-open shirt.

Unlike the other dancers, most of which are grinding on their partners, Bucky and Natasha are _all_ _over _the dance floor. Yes, they're pressed close most of the time, but they're dancing too, _really dancing_. Despite his jealousy, Steve can't help but be thoroughly impressed. It's looks like they're dancing to choreography, but Steve is pretty sure they aren't- which only makes it all the more impressive.

Watching the way Bucky and Natasha move together, the way they are so in sync, like they are extended limbs of each other, Steve realizes something. Stomach turning to acid, he realizes that Bucky and Natasha are a couple. One that's been together for a long time, if the way they move is any indication. _How could he be so stupid?_ Of course someone like Bucky would have a girl, a beautiful girl. _Hell,_ the most gorgeous girl Steve has ever seen in person. Why would he want Steve, when he has Natasha? _God, he's an idiot._

Trying, and failing, to keep the smile on his face, Steve turns to Clint and says, "Wow, they look great together," voice shaking.

With a knowing look on his face, Clint turns to Steve and says, "Yeah, you'd think they were a couple, wouldn'ya?"

Steve's heart stutters in his chest, and afraid of the answer he hesitantly asks, "Aren't they?"

A full-blown smirks appears on Clint's face, as if Steve just revealed the secrets of the universe, and he replies, "Nah, not since we were kids… I don't think Bucky's seeing anyone right now…" while glancing sideways at Steve.

If Clint's behavior is anything to go by, Steve thinks he's busted. But Steve's mind can't even think about that right now. _Bucky and Natasha aren't together._ Steve has a chance. Or well, half a chance, he doesn't even know if Bucky likes boys, let alone him. But again, based on Clint's reaction, Steve thinks that it's a definite possibility_. _Hopefully.

The song changes, and with excited screams, everyone jumps into the next dance with enthusiasm. Bucky breaks away from Natasha, and makes his way through the crowd, occasionally stopping for a dance. As he's got his front pressed to the back of a tall brunette, hips rolling in tandem, he looks directly at Steve and Clint. Hips stuttering for a moment, and face scrunching in confusion, he breaks away and walks over to them.

_Oh god, he's coming right for us._ Steve freezes on the spot, unable to hear what Clint is saying, only hearing the panicked thoughts racing through his mind. And geez, what the hell is wrong with him? He's talked to guys before without going brain dead… But none of those guys were _Bucky Barnes. _

Clint has his back turned, and when Bucky is right behind him, Bucky gives him a bump in the ass with his hips to get his attention.

Without looking at Steve, not even a glance in his direction, voice gruff, Bucky says to Clint, "Hey cus, what's _he_ doin' here?"

Cheeks burning, and eyes downcast, Steve scuffs his feet on the floor. _Well, then._ Steve reckons he'll take that as a _no,_ Bucky does not like him.

"I carried a watermelon." Steve clamps his mouth shut, not believing that he just blurted that out. _I carried a watermelon?_ _Goddamnit Rogers, you're such a heel sometimes. _

Glancing at Steve, with a look on his face, that roughly translates to "Really?" Clint jumps in to vouch for Steve, to prove that he isn't some watermelon carrying fool.

"Stevie? He's here with me, Bucky. He's cool, I thought ya' might wanna meet 'im, you guys'll get along _real_ swell."

Having risen his gaze when Clint was backing him up, Steve's looks to the floor, eyes widening at Clint's innuendo. Feeling the blush creep up his chest and neck, up onto his cheeks, Steve prays that Bucky doesn't notice.

Apparently his praying was for naught, because he feels a finger chuck his chin, causing him to look up, right into the cool blue eyes, of Bucky Barnes.

"Stevie, huh? Nice name…" and then quieter, a soft murmur only for Steve, he says, "I make ya' nervous or somethin', Stevie? You look a little red."

Stuttering a little, searching his brain for a reply, Steve is about to reply, when Bucky cuts in, louder this time, the flirtatious murmur from before is nowhere to be found, "Where's your girlfriend, Stevie?"

Blinking, Steve asks, "Girlfriend? I don't…"

Eyes narrowing at Steve, Bucky puts on a wolfish grin, and says, "Yeah, _girlfriend._ The stone cold fox, I've seen ya' around with, with 'er hands all over ya', your _girlfriend_."

_Stone cold fox? _The only girl who he's talked to since he's gotten here is Darcy… _Darcy. _

Unable to help himself, Steve starts laughing at the thought of Bucky mistaking him and Darcy as a couple. After a few more snorts of laughter, Steve tries to catch his breath, so he can tell Bucky _no, my sister is _not _my girlfriend._ But just as he's getting his breath back, Bucky starts to turn away scowling at Steve. _Shit._

"Bucky! Wait a sec, will 'ya?"

"Why, so you can laugh at me some more? Piss off, will ya', _Stevie?"_ Bucky's tone is harsh, and hurt, spitting Steve's name out like a curse.

"I'm not laughin' at _you_, I'm _laughin'_ cause the girl you've seen me with? She's my sister, her name's Darcy," Steve sheepishly explains, eyes cast to the floor, once again.

After a moment of silence, Steve looks up to see if Bucky's still there, or if he stalked off like he had originally intended. To his surprise, Bucky was right in front of him, looking as sheepish as Steve feels. After noticing that Steve's gaze had returned to him, Bucky's face turns into a grin, and after nodding to himself a few times, he says to Steve, "Sister, huh? So no girlfriend?"

"Nope, no girlfriend…" Steve hesitates, stopping mid sentence, unsure if he should continue his sentence, when he decides _fuck it, it's now or never_, "or… or boyfriend."

Smiling, to himself or to Steve, Steve is unsure, he turns and dances his way back into the crowd. Blinking, Steve has no clue what the hell just happened. His eyes follow Bucky in the crowd and his stomach curls in rejection, as he sees Bucky take Natasha back into his arms.

Due to the fact that Steve is apparently a masochist, he stays where he is and watches Bucky and Natasha move with each other. Smiling bitterly to himself, Steve can't help but think that he shouldn't be surprised. Why would Bucky want someone like him? He could probably have anyone here, boy _or_ girl. And _god_, that voice? The feeling of Bucky's breath on the shell of his ear, of the sweet murmur of his voice… Steve can feel his mind drifting to the place of inappropriate fantasies, and wards off any thoughts of Bucky and his sinful mouth… for now.

While Steve was lost in his mind, he didn't notice the way that Bucky's gaze was trained on him, or notice Bucky cutting through the crowd straight for him.

Startled out his daydreams by the sudden appearance of Bucky, Steve struggles with words trying to say something, _anything_, to him. But, as it turns out, Steve never had to say anything. With a glint in his eye, Bucky grins and moves his finger in a "come hither" motion. Steve looks around him confused, looking for the girl that Bucky is signalling, but there's no one there. Except Steve. _Oh God._

Bucky extends his hand to Steve, smirking all the while, as Steve turns around and looks to Clint for confirmation that this is really happening. Laughing, Clint nods and shrugs as if to say, _go for it_. Steve turns back around and follows Bucky as he leads them into the throng of dancing bodies. Upon reaching their destination, Bucky turns to Steve, and with a surprisingly soft smile, he gently places his hands on Steve's hips and draws him closer. Steve notices that they're close enough that if either of them tilted their hips forward, even the tiniest amount, his and Bucky's hips would be flush together.

Bucky tightens his hold on Steve's hips and pushes them downward so that Steve's bent at the knees. Settling into the same stance, Bucky begins to rolls his hips in a circular motion, his hands lightly at Steve's sides, guiding him to do the same. Steve feels awkward and stiff, and knowing that he looks it, he glances around at the other dancers self-consciously. Noticing the way that everyone is loose and free, and comparing it to his graceless jerky movements, Steve's hips stutter with uncertainty. Before he can get too lost in his self-pity, Steve is pulled from his thoughts by the feeling of Bucky taking hold of his chin, with gentler hands then Steve would have expected. Tilting Steve's chin up, forcing him to hold eye contact with him, Bucky reassures Steve, "Hey, it's alright, ignore them, jus' watch me, okay?" pulling Steve closer, Bucky slots a knee between Steve's thighs, "Watch _me,_ Stevie."

Unable to look away from the intensity of Bucky's gaze, and unable to think coherently with the feel of Bucky's thigh pressing right _there_, Steve nods. Keeping his word, Steve keeps his eyes on Bucky.


	4. Love Man

He's sure Bucky can hear it. _How could he not?_ Steve's heart is thundering a mile a minute, and he prays that Bucky can't hear how he affects him. With his arms slung loosely around Bucky's neck, Bucky's knee between his thighs, Steve is exactly where he wants to be. As his hips sway to the rhythm of the song, for once in his whole life Steve feels _free_. He feels _wanted._ His limbs are loose, his head bobbing to the music, Bucky's hands hot on his hips. _God. _What Steve wouldn't do to stay like this forever. It's like the only people in the room are he and Bucky—no one else exists. The niggling of self-consciousness that has haunted Steve for as long as he can remember is gone. He isn't thinking about what other people will think when they see him dance, when they see him fumble. All Steve can think about is the beautiful boy in front of him and the feel of their bodies as they move as one.

Listening to the lyrics of the song that's playing, Steve thinks it's entirely fitting to suit the boy in front of him. _Love Man, indeed. _After that thought crosses Steve's mind, he's ripped from his from his sense of freeness and thrown back into reality. As soon as the song ends, Bucky is out of Steve's arms, and before Steve can blink he disappears into the crowd without a second glance. After standing there in the middle of the floor, stunned, Steve shakes himself and makes his way through the crowd heading towards the door. _How could he be so stupid? _ Of course Bucky wasn't going to pay him any more attention than a dance. It was probably a fucking pity dance! Poor little Stevie Rogers with no one to dance with, _what a shame_. Distantly, Steve can hear Clint calling his name over the music, but he keeps shouldering his way through the crowd, desperate to get away from this place.

Finally Steve reaches the door, and as he pushes it open the cool night air hits his face. Closing his eyes at the refreshing feel of the cool breeze, Steve stops for just a moment. Just a moment to breath. He is pulled from his reverie, by the sound of a small gasp. Opening his eyes and turning to the direction it came from, Steve stomach drops right down to his toes. In the corner of the deck, against the wall of the barn, is none other than Bucky Barnes. But not the way that Steve wishes to see him—normally Steve's heart would light up at the sight of his latest attraction. But no, the sight of Bucky with his hands snaked up some girl's skirt, with his tongue down her throat definitely does not make Steve's heart light up. Rather, it makes it feel as though it is breaking.

Waking up is hard. Waking up after a long night of quiet tears, and tossing and turning, is even harder. Opening his eyes, Steve's mind flashes to the sight of Bucky tangled up that girl from last night—_no. _He's stronger than this, Steve has never let something like this get to him so badly, and he's not about to start now. He's better than this.

Well, he likes to think he's better than this, but he's really not. If he was better than this self-pity, he wouldn't have spent half the night fantasizing about Bucky Imagining that it was him Bucky had his hands all over, it was him gasping softly in the shadows from the feel of Bucky kissing his neck. Stifling a groan at the images flashing through his mind, Steve rolls out of bed and stumbles over to closet. After a few minutes of staring into the seemingly endless abyss of the pressed shirts his mom made him pack, Steve turns away and pulls on his cutoff shorts that were residing in a crumpled heap on his bedroom floor. On his way down to the kitchen for breakfast, he makes a pit stop in Darcy's room and steals a plain white t-shirt from her drawer and pulls it over his head.

Expecting to be greeted by his family when he walks into the kitchen, Steve is surprised to find that the cabin's empty. Looking at the clock, Steve's surprise vanishes when he sees the time—11:00 am. Sarah and Darcy would've gone up to the main house hours ago for breakfast and whatever activities Fury had in store for them today. After grabbing an apple, Steve heads out of the cabin and makes his way up the path towards the main house. Strolling along, apple in hand, Steve desperately tries to push last night's events out of his mind. He didn't need to be reminded of the feeling of Bucky's hands on his waist, or the puff of Bucky's breath hot on his neck…_God. _He needs to get it together before he drives himself crazy.

After a full day of activities with his family that _should_ have been fun, but were decidedly _not_, due to the onslaught of images of Bucky from the night previous, Steve found himself at the last place he wanted to be. At the Gazebo. During a dance. In particular, a dance where Bucky was. How could Steve have been so stupid as to think he wouldn't be here? _He's a dance instructor, duh._ Of course he'd be at the goddamn dance.

Standing at the sidelines, Steve watches his mother dancing with Fury, Darcy dancing with Brock, and Bucky dancing with an older woman who was looking at him like she wanted to swallow him _whole_. Watching Bucky flirting with the woman, her hands roaming his back and shoulders, Steve felt sick to his stomach. But he couldn't help but ask himself_ why?_ He didn't even know Bucky, barely met him one time, so why was he feeling like this? Like he had some claim on Bucky?

An arm slung over his shoulders interrupted Steve's internal debate. He could tell who it was before he even looked up, the strong scent of cologne gave it away—it was none other than Tony Stark.

"Hey, shrimp. How's about you and I dance a little tango, huh? Get a little close and personal?"

In the face of Tony tangoing with an invisible partner, Steve couldn't hold back a laugh.

"Sorry Tony, not really in the mood for total humiliation tonight."

At the downtrodden tone of Steve's voice, Tony observes him with a concerned glance for a few moments. Steve, completely unaware of the scrutiny, has his eyes trained on a certain brunet as he sways with yet another woman. Tony follows Steve's gaze, and is surprisingly unsurprised at the object of Steve's attention. With a soft smile, Tony starts to lead Steve to the steps of the Gazebo.

"C'mon, kid, let's go for a walk yeah? I'll show you where the cool kids go."

Walking side by side, mostly in silence, Steve is pleasantly surprised at the comfort he feels from Tony's presence. Eventually, they come to a stop outside of one of the resort buildings. Unlocking the door, Tony motions Steve to go in with an "After you, _sir."_

With a glance around the room, Steve realizes that they're in the kitchen. Strutting past Steve, Tony walks over to the fridge and swinging it open with gusto, he begins listing all of the desserts for Steve to choose from. During Tony's dessert soliloquy, Steve heard a sniffle from behind him. Turning around, he noticed someone curled up in the corner, with a shock he realized it wasn't just anyone, but Natasha. Instead of the fiery girl Steve had seen before, she looked absolutely terrified.

Knowing it wouldn't bode well for her to be found like this by Tony, Steve stepped into action. Giving Natasha a reassuring smile, he turned back to Tony and feigning what he hoped to be a "sick" voice, he said, "Y'know Tony, I'm not really feelin' all too well, I feel like I'm gonna be sick, would you mind if we headed back so I could find my ma?"

"Sure Steve, yeah, of course, c'mon let's get you back," Steve wasn't sure if Tony rushed him back to the gazebo because he was genuinely concerned for his health, or because he really didn't want to take care of a potentially pukey Steve, but knowing Tony it was probably the latter.

Instead of finding his Ma like he told Tony, Steve spots Clint through the crowd and makes his way over.

"Hey Blondie, how goes it?" dropping his voice to a lower tone, Clint winks and says, "I saw you sneak off with boss-man, what's that all about, huh?"

Leaning up to talk quietly into Clint's ear, Steve tells him, "I was in the kitchen's and I found Natasha, she doesn't look good Clint, she's all curled up in a ball cryin', she looked terrified."

Face going from joking to concerned in a flash, Clint tells Steve to stay put and he'll be right back.

Doing as he was told, Steve waits for Clint, and when Clint emerges from the crowd, Bucky's hot on his heels with a grimace on his face, and they both walk right past Steve and down the steps.

Scrambling from his spot against the railing, Steve takes off after the pair and into the night. Catching up to them, Steve calls out, "Clint, wait up!"

Both of the boys turn around, and before Clint can get a word out, Bucky turns to Clint and practically growls, "What the hell is he doin' here?"


	5. Breathe with me, Sugar

Taken aback by the ferocity in Bucky's tone, Steve tries to stutter out a reply but before he can form the words, Clint jumps to his defense.

"I brought him in case Tony or Fury show up, plus he's the one who found her Buck. Just back off a little, huh cuz? Blondie's jus' tryna' help."

Steve looks up to see Bucky giving him a hard glance, and after a few moments of tense eye contact, Bucky spins back around continuing his fast pace towards the kitchens.

"Tasha just doesn't think sometimes," Bucky huffs out a frustrated breath, "She just-she just…"

"She wouldn'ta done anything stupid? Right Buck, she wouldn'ta done that right?"

Alarmed by the concern in both Bucky and Clint's voices, Steve starts to wonder what's really going on here… He didn't think that Natasha crying would be such a big deal, but with the way Bucky and Clint are acting… He's not so sure anymore.

Steve wants to know what's going on, but he doesn't want to be the object of Bucky's glare again… Summoning the courage, he mutters to Clint, "What's wrong? She's not hurt is she?"

Hesitating for a moment, Clint says nothing, and then turning to Steve he says quietly, "She's knocked up, Steve."

As soon as the words leave Clint's mouth, Bucky's rounding on him, "Clint!" he growls with a warning tone that seems to say _shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you._

Steve stutters his step, not expecting that answer from Clint or that response from Bucky. And judging by the way Bucky's acting about this whole thing… Steve's stomach drops when he realizes Bucky's probably the father… _Well, there goes my chance._ And isn't he just a horrible person with a thought like that.

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "What's he gonna do about it?" _God_, _Steve you fucking idiot, why the hell would you say that right now. Now is definitely _not _the time for you're moronic comments. _

Whirling around so fast Steve is _sure_ he has whiplash, Bucky looks to Steve and says with such disdain, "_What's he gonna do about it?_ Oh yeah, cause it's mine right? _Of-fucking-course _you'd think it's mine. You don't know nothin' kid, not about _her_ and sure as hell not about _me."_

Steve can feel himself flushing from embarrassment, and tries to fix his mistake by muttering, "Sorry, but-but I just thought by the way you were acting… I-"

Before he could finish _whatever_ he was gonna say, he's not even sure himself where he was going with that sentence, Bucky turns away with a shake of his head and stalks off.

Feeling mortified with himself, Steve looks to Clint to apologize, to say _something_, but before he can say anything, Clint's waving off his apologies, which Steve attempts to meet with a smile. The two of them then set off after Bucky, catching up to him when they reach the back door to the kitchen.

As soon as Bucky steps inside, he heads right to the spot where Steve saw Natasha. He didn't even need Steve to tell him where to go, it's like he just _knew_ exactly where she would be. Standing back behind Clint, Steve watches Bucky sink to his knees beside the crying girl, and scoop her into his arms. Cradling the back of her head to his chest, Steve can faintly hear Bucky whispering into her hair: _Shhh, it's okay, doll. Bucky's here. I ain't gonna let anything happen to you. I'm here now, darlin'. I've got 'ya. _Shifting to his knees, Bucky wiggles his hands under Natasha and stands, scooping her up bridal-style.

"C'mon, there we go, good girl Tasha… That's my good girl…"

Pushing past Clint and Steve, Bucky carries Natasha out of the building without a second glance behind him.

Stumbling after Clint and Bucky, trying to keep up with their half walk-half jog, Steve's breath hitches painfully in his chest for the tenth time. Only this time he can't force himself to push past it, so he stops in his tracks to take a breather. Bent at the waist, hands on his knees, Steve struggles to breath in and out, in and out… _Jesus Christ, why is this so _hard_?_ _It's walking for fucksake, who the hell can't walk?_ This is fairly normal for Steve, the shortness of breath and the panting, but what's not normal for Steve is to be without his inhaler. Like he is right now. _Shit._ After this realization, and a frantic pat of his pockets, Steve's breath quickens, and he can hear the wheeze coming from his chest, can feel the tightness creeping up on his lungs.

Hands scrabbling at his chest, Steve sinks to his knees, his vision beginning to blur. In the back of his mind, Steve can hear his frantic breaths, the near sobs that are ripping from his chest. He's sure this is it, this is the time that his body is finally giving up on him, but—But. Through the haze of his vision, a face appears. _I know this face, _Steve thinks, _a beautiful face with storm cloud eyes._ The lack of oxygen to his brain is making his thoughts fuzzy, but through the clouds a name emerges on his lips, "Bucky."

"In n' out, Stevie, c'mon you can do this. Breathe with me, sugar, nice and slow…"

Steve finally registers the strong, calloused hands cupping his face, the soothing words spilling from the lips in front of him, and the desperate eyes gazing into his own.

"You with me, Stevie? Huh? Can you hear me, doll?"

His breathing finally under control, Steve is able to nod and to take a full breath in and out. He can't believe this just happened. Not only did he make a complete fool of himself by almost dying, but also Bucky stayed with him. Crouched on the ground, hands on his face, and talked him through it, kind of stayed with him. Not the awkward, "let me stand here beside you while you almost suffocate," kind that Steve's used to.

It's not until Steve is looking up into Bucky's eyes, about to reassure him that _yes,_ _I'm here and_ _yes, I can hear you,_ that he realizes his own hands are covering Bucky's own on his face. Also, that Bucky's lips are mere inches from his own.


	6. Anything For You

Steve can feel the hot puff of Bucky's breath on his lips, eyes closing on their own account, he leans in. Pulled in by the gravity of his attraction to Bucky, Steve can almost feel Bucky's lips on his, they're both leaning towards each other, both unable to help themselves-

A shrill laugh cuts through the night, causing both boys to jolt away from the other. The approaching sound of footsteps and flirtatious laughter fill the air, and before Steve knows it, Bucky's on his feet retreating from Steve.

Without fully turning around, Bucky stops and calls back to Steve, "I, uh- I gotta go find Clint and Tasha, make sure he got her back safe." The words seem forced, punched from Bucky's lungs, stiff.

"O-okay-" before Steve can fully get the word out, Bucky has disappeared through the trees, and into the darkness.

After wandering around for a while, Steve is unable to help himself and goes off in search of Bucky, Natasha, and Clint. _Not because he has a strange, and perhaps creepy obsession with Bucky,_ Steve thinks, _but because he's concerned about Natasha. _

Since the barn where Steve has been dancing is the only place he's ever seen any of the staff convene, Steve decides to try there first.

Arriving at the building, he climbs up the steps to the porch. Upon reaching to push open the door, Steve hesitates and decides to knock instead. _Just in case._

Almost immediately after knocking, Clint's voice calls out from behind the door, "Who's there?"

"It's uh, it's me, Steve."

Steve can hear muttering behind the door, perhaps some arguing between the two boys, until a female voice cuts through the noise and they fall silent.

The door opens a crack, revealing Clint, who then opens the door just wide enough for Steve to slide through.

Natasha's curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, tucked under Bucky's arm. Bucky looks less than pleased to see Steve, his face turned in the opposite direction completely ignoring Steve. Noting the displeasure his presence is causing Bucky, Steve is unsure what to do with himself so _of course_, the most legitimate option is to awkwardly stand at the door. _Of course. _Eyes cast down, thumbs twiddling, and Steve is about to turn tail and run- but before he can open his mouth, Natasha is addressing him.

"So, you're the Stevie I keep hearing so much about?"

"Yes ma'am" _Hearing so much about? Does that mean Bucky's talked to her about him? Talked to her about him _a lot?_ What if-_

His internal ranting is cut off by Natasha's reply, "Hmm... and polite, too."

Glancing at her face, Steve can see a small smirk resting on her face, and something like approving consideration in her eyes. The eyes on him, having everyone look at him, including Bucky this time, fluster Steve. Cheeks burning, Steve realizes under the scrutiny that he's still standing at the door, so he moves to an armchair and perches on the edge.

As soon as his ass hits the cushion, Bucky is finally speaking out after his silence since Steve's arrival, "Steve, it's probably best if you get goin' now. You came to us to help Natasha which was great, but now... this really ain't none of your business, kid."

As soon as the words leave Bucky's mouth, Steve can feel the heat creeping up his neck, no doubt turning his face into a _goddamn tomato. _As he moves to get up, he opens his mouth to stutter out an apology for intruding, when once again he's cut off by Natasha's voice.

"_James._ How dare you speak to Steve like that? He's done nothing but help and here you are treating him awfully. You ought'a be ashamed of yourself."

Steve's surprised at the tone of Natasha's voice, sounding more like a scolding mother than anything, and desperately tries to hold back a smile at the chagrined look on Bucky's face. After Bucky's scolding, he doesn't try to dismiss Steve any longer, and soon the three friends are talking of performances, dances, partners, some place called Hydra, and procedures. Steve hasn't a clue what's going on, or what they're even talking about, but his ears perk up at one thing.

"Natasha, you can't. We don't have the money, and there's no way we can get $200 in less than two weeks, it's fuckin' impossible-"

"No it's not."

The three of them turn around, surprised at the sound of Steve's voice, as if they forgot he was even in the room. All three look confused at Steve's statement, obviously none of them understood his meaning, so he decides to elaborate.

"I can get you the $200. Why do you need it?"

Sighing, Bucky runs a tired hand over his face, "There's a med student who'll be coming through here two Friday's from now. We talked to him already, he's a friend of a friend. He said if we fork over $200 he'll... take care of Tasha."

After a moment of consideration, Steve repeats himself, "I can get you the $200." _He knows this is risky, his mother would never approve of unsanctioned medical procedures but... Natasha needs this, and he knows they can't afford to go to a hospital, so what else are they supposed to do? Fuck. He knows if this comes back to his mom he'll be in such deep shit he'll need hip waders, but... She's always telling him to do the right thing... isn't this that? _

"Steve, c'mon you do-"

"Clint, I'm serious. I can get you the money Natasha, it won't be a problem, I promise."

Eyes lighting up, Natasha turns to Bucky, "Bucky, can you believe this kid? That's amazing, Steve! You'll really be saving my life, you know that?"

Before Steve can say anything in response to Natasha's gratitude, Bucky's spitting, "Yeah, takes a lot'a effort to run to Daddy and ask for the money."

At Bucky's hostility, Steve is more unsure of anything to do with the brunet than before. He thought Bucky would be happy, be grateful, be _nice_ to Steve for helping them out. He just doesn't get it. _Why is he treating me so badly?_

Clint interrupts Steve from his thoughts, "Do you really think you're Dad'll give you the money, Blondie?"

"Not, uh, I don't have- no, not my Dad. I'll have to ask my Mom, but I'm sure she'll say yes. I won't tell her about you Natasha or your situation, don't worry. But still, I'm sure she'll lend it to me if she knows I'm helping someone who's in trouble."

"This is so great, Steve. You're wonderful, kid. But... you don't have to, you know that right?" Bucky opens his mouth to interrupt Natasha, but she holds her hand up, "If you don't feel right about it, we can get the money another way."

"Tasha don't be stupid, we can't get the money another way and you know that. The kid said he'd get us the money, don't be stupid, and take it."

Steve gives the redhead a small smile, hoping to reassure her, and says, "Thank you... but don't worry, Natasha. I know what I'm doing, and I want to help."

Without warning, a slow, sneaky smile makes it's way onto Natasha's mouth. Her eyes dance between Steve and Bucky, and the smile only becomes _more _conniving.

"Steve if you _really_ want to help, you know what would be amazing?" That smile's still on her face and all it does is make Steve nervous. _Why the hell is she looking at me like that? And why is she looking at Bucky the same way, what the fuck is she planning?_

"Um, yeah, I'd love to help in any way I can, of course..."

"Well, the night the med student is coming through is the night of one of our performances. Once every summer we go over to _Hydra, _it's about an hour away, and we dance. It pays really well for one night... and well, since I won't be able to go, Bucky'll need a partner and-"

"NO. No way Natasha, _no-fucking-way_.This is _crazy_, even for you. No-"

"James, you're being ridiculous. You need a partner, and Steve can move-"

"No, I can't."

With a pointed glare at Steve for interrupting, Natasha continues, "He can move, I saw you two dancing together the other night. He may not know the steps, but the little thing can _move_, Buck. Especially with you."

Clint chimes in, "What, Barnes, you got a better idea? Where else are you gonna find a partner such short notice? 'Sides, you guys can practice everyday."

"Look, I know I need a partner, and _sure_, maybe your guys' idea is good in _theory_, but Steve probably doesn't want to anyways, right Steve?"

"I'll do it."

Spinning around to face Steve, Bucky's eyes are wide with incredulity. Steve just shrugs at him. _Besides, now he can figure out what Bucky's problem is with him. And, if they need to get a little close and personal... Well, I'm not complaining. _

"You're all _fucking_ crazy."

After giving his final say on the matter, Bucky storms out of the building, door slamming behind him. The only thing Steve can think about is that Bucky _never said no._ _Well, that and how dangerously attractive Bucky is when he's angry. _


	7. Pride

Steve stands in the middle of the empty studio, pacing nervously, praying that he'll show up. Looking at his feet, he scuffs the toe of his sneaker against the floor, making a black skid on the smooth wood flooring. As he continues with his assault of the floor, he doesn't notice the door creak open and Bucky slip inside behind him.

The sound of a throat clearing fills the empty room and Steve whirls around at the noise, startled. He stands there with his mouth open for a few seconds, slightly shocked that Bucky even came here to meet him. After the other night when Bucky stormed out, Steve thought for sure that Natasha's plan was toast and he had missed his chance at Bucky Barnes.

As he reaches the studio, he gently pushes the door open trying to make as little noise as possible. He knows Steve is already inside, because Bucky is 15 minutes later than the time that Clint had told him.

Bucky slips through the door, and stops when he sees Steve standing in the center of the room. Steve has his head down, and he's toeing the floor with his shoe with a concentration that seems far greater than the task at hand. Bucky can't help but notice how his hair is lit up by the sunlight streaming through the window, or the way that his bangs fall over his forehead. _God, he's beautiful_. Bucky shakes his head at the thought, angry with himself for thinking that way and loudly clears his throat.

Steve spins around to face Bucky, obviously alarmed by the noise. For a few seconds, Steve does nothing but stare at Bucky with his mouth slightly open. Confused by Steve's reaction, Bucky does the one thing that he knows, and decides to pick a fight.

Little does he know, that all Little Stevie Rogers knows is the same damn thing.

"What the hell are you lookin' at, Punk?" Bucky spits at Steve, mouth twisting into a grimace.

Steve's mood turns on a dime, and he goes from feeling _something he doesn't want to think about_ to defensive. Standing up straight he narrows his eyes at Bucky and in a tone equally as snappy, fires back, "Apparently, not a damn thing."

Bucky throws his head back and laughs, an awful laugh that Steve knows is meant to be followed by something nasty. He's proved right when Bucky turns his gaze onto Steve,

"_You_ telling me that _I'm_ nothing? Ain't _that _a damn kick in the pants."

Steve feels his face flare red, for a split second all he feels is pain. A sickening pain that drives into his core, at those awful words, at the fact that the one person who he thought was _everything_ thinks that Steve is _nothing._ That pain is short lived as it is soon masked with anger, anger that comes from the deepest part of Steve, the part that has been kicked down too many times.

Before he even thinks it, Steve lunges at Bucky his arms going around his waist and knocks him to the ground. They hit the ground with a thud, landing in a heap of struggling limbs. They shove at each other both trying to be the one who lands on top, but having the physical advantage Bucky wins out over Steve. Bucky's legs are on either side of Steve's knees, and his hands pin Steve's arms to the ground. Steve struggles under Bucky, but it is no use because the other boy outweighs him by too much. Even in the most hopeless situations, Steve always maintains his pride- sticking his chin out, he looks Bucky right in the eye and mutters, "Do it."

At Steve's words, Bucky breathing heavily, raises his fist but does not throw it down. Instead, he looks right back at Steve, his eyes burning with fury.

Louder this time, Steve spits, "DO IT!" Lifting his head up towards Bucky, again pushing his chin out.

Still Bucky's punch does not land and Steve throws his head back on the ground, frustrated and angry at being trapped. Again he meets Bucky's eyes and cannot decipher the emotion behind his gaze. _Why the hell is he holding me here? What's he gonna do to me?_ He struggles again for a moment, before moving again to knock his head against the wood flooring. Before the back of his skull can meet its mark, Bucky's hand is suddenly there, cradling the back of his head. The next breath Steve takes gets stuck in the back of his throat, his eyes widening at the gentleness of the hand behind his head, the hand that was meant to deliver a blow only seconds before.

Steve barely has time to think before Bucky's lips are crashing down onto his, and his lips are captured in a bruising kiss. Steve has only just registered the kiss as Bucky's lips disappear, and soon after the weight of his body is gone as well. Steve watches helplessly as Bucky's back disappears through the door, and into the sunlight.

Steve lays there stunned on the floor, for what feels like hours but could only be a few minutes. He pushes himself into a sitting position and with his right hand he brings his fingers to his mouth, and touches his lips with wonder.

"Huh."

As Steve sits on the floor of the studio, Bucky storms through the trees, his eyes burning. He stops with his back against a tree, chest heaving. Whirling around, he curls his hand into a fist and slams it into the tree, delivering the blow that he could not bear to before.


	8. Now I've Got You In My Sights

He thrusts open to the door to Natasha's cabin and as it closes behind him, he turns around and kicks it shut. Bucky knows that Natasha is sitting on the bed watching him with narrowed eyes, but he avoids her gaze and runs his fingers through his hair. Standing for a moment, with his hair tangled between his fingers, he finally looks up into his best friend's gaze.

"I'll take that as a sign that your lesson with Steve didn't go so well?" Her voice was sharp, he knew that she was disappointed in him, for messing this whole thing up with Steve. He didn't even have to tell her that it was his fault, she knew him too well.

"C'mon Nat, just leave it will ya? I'm not in th' mood for anymore fightin...'"

"Oh no, you don't get out of it that easy, what the hell happened?"

Bucky sighs and throws his back, and knowing that she'd get it out of him eventually, recounts the past hour of his life.

Steve is still sitting on the ground of the studio. He really just doesn't know _what_ to do with himself. Stunned at what just transpired between him and Bucky, he just… _can't_ do anything right now. Although what happened between him and Bucky was by no means friendly, he can't help the laugh that threatens to spill from his lips. He sits there giggling for a moment, his fingers hopelessly trailing across his lips.

As he's acting like a complete loon, the door slides open and Clint pokes his head in. At the sight of Steve alone on the floor, his eyebrows shoot up betraying his confusion.

"Hey, Blondie- what the hell are ya doin' down on the floor?" A frown sits on his face, and before Steve can come up with an excuse, Clint cuts in, "And where the hell is Bucky? Aren't you two supposed to be practicin' your dancin' or whatever?"

Steve flounders for a moment, unsure of what to say, but eventually he manages, "Uh, well we were gonna do the dancin' stuff but we, uh, we got in an argument and Bucky he, he left?"

After he's done speaking he realizes that he spoke that as a question, not an answer and could slap himself in the face. _Because that's not suspicious or anything, is it?_

Clint gives him an unimpressed look, like he just _knows _that Steve is trying to pull the wool over his eyes.

"Sure, kiddo, whatever you say…"

Realizing that he's still sitting on the floor like a complete heel, he scrambles to his feet. Once he's up, he runs a hand through his hair and smooths out his shirt. He looks up to see that look on Clint's face again, the look that seems to say, _you ain't fooling a soul, Steve Rogers._

After he's done talking, telling Nat _everything _that happened, Bucky stands there not really sure what to do with himself. He's looking at the ground, not wanting to look up and see the look on Nat's face.

What he wasn't expecting was a squawk of laughter, and for her to blurt, "I knew it! I knew you liked him, ha!"

Bucky could hear the self-satisfaction dripping from her tone, and he finally looks up at her and rolls his eyes.

"I don't, I don't _like_ him Nat, I just-I just think he's… cute is all…" He trails off hoping that he sounds convincing to Natasha at least, because he sure as shit didn't convince himself.

With a raise of her eyebrow, Nat lifts her hand and points to the door, "Get out. Now. And go apologize to Steve, and make things right. You still need a partner for Hydra and right now he's your only option."

Knowing she's right, Bucky turns around and hesitantly heads for the door. As he's stepping outside he hears from behind him, "_Fucking boys._"

Steve and Clint are sitting in the same studio room, shooting the shit, completely unaware of who is about to walk through those doors. Steve has his head thrown back in laughter, while Clint sits down from him on the ratty old couch pushed in the corner. As Steve lets out a rather unattractive snort, none other than Bucky Barnes walks through the door. The smile immediately fades from Steve's face, his cheeks pinking at the realization that Bucky probably just heard him snort like a pig.

As he looks at Bucky from under his lashes, he can't help but notice the small threatening to curve Bucky lips. When Bucky's eyes meet his, he quickly turns away. There's no way Bucky is here to talk to him, he's probably here for Clint.

"Hey Bucky, what's up cuz?"

Steve's assumptions are proved wrong when instead of greeting Clint, Bucky quietly says, "Uh hey Clint, sorry, but uh-can I talk to, to Steve? Alone?"

Steve thought his eyes were going to bulge out of his head, he was so surprised. He almost wanted to grab Clint's arm as he walked by, and beg him not to leave him alone for the horrible conversation that was about to happen… _Sorry Steve, but earlier was nothing. It didn't mean anything, it was just the heat of the moment, yeah? You should probably forget about it, and forget about the dancing. It's for the best. _

Steve is interrupted from his depressing daydream, by Bucky clearing his throat.

"So...uh, about earlier, I just wanted to say that," _oh Christ, Steve thinks, here it comes, the inevitable rejection, _"I'm sor-no, I'm not sorry about what happened…"

_What the fuck is happening. _

"I'm not sorry it happened, I'm just-I'm sorry that it happened the uh, the way that it did…" Bucky isn't looking at Steve, but at the ground instead.

Steve's glad of this, because he's sure he looks like he's about to puke. He cannot believe this is happening, he doesn't even know what to say, _goddamnit Steve, you always have something to say but now when it _really _counts, you're speechless?_

With a surprising boost of confidence, Steve murmurs, "I'm not. Sorry it happened either, that is…"

Bucky inhales sharply, looking at Steve disbelievingly. Steve is confused at what he sees in Bucky's face… How could Bucky have expected him to react any other way? _Had he not looked in a mirror before?_

With a hesitant smile directed at Steve, Bucky replied, "If ya still want to help with this dance thing, I know a place where we can practice tomorrow?"

Steve couldn't believe the shyness that surrounded Bucky right now, this was almost too good to be true. "Sure, that sounds great, Buck."

Not able to help himself, Steve's mouth stretched into a smile, _a real one_, that had the power to make anyone smile. And it did just that.


	9. Practice Makes Perfect

Steve stands in the small field, patched with gravel that serves as a parking lot for the staff of S.H.I.E.L.D. It's out of the way, a 5-minute walk from the resort, so Steve figures that he isn't in any danger of being seen by anyone. Anyone, being his mother or his sister. Although, he thinks, Darcy probably wouldn't tell their Mom if she saw him driving away with Bucky, but better safe than sorry. As he ponders his sister's loyalty, he catches a glimpse of Bucky walking up the hill towards him. And dear god, isn't that a sight.

Bucky walks with confidence. No one could ever deny that Bucky Barnes _struts_. This particular strut is something that Steve Rogers is learning to both love and hate. He loves it, because paired with his tight jeans and black t-shirt, with sunglasses perched on the edge of his nose, Bucky is sex personified. It cuts Steve right to his core. On the other hand, Steve hates it because Bucky is sex personified. Because, _who looks that good all the time?_ How is Steve supposed to focus on _anything_ when Bucky is standing next to him? Or even worse (_perhaps bette_r), pressed closed to him and trying to teach him how to dance?

As Bucky nears Steve, he reaches up and pushes his sunglasses up onto the top of his head. Steve, despite himself, notices the ungodly way that Bucky's biceps flex as he does this. _God help him._

"Hey, Steve…" Bucky speaks first, hopelessly awkward, as both boys have no idea how to approach each other due to their last encounter.

Steve feels his cheeks pink, and manages a stammering, "Hi-hiya, Bucky…"

_Did he just say "Hiya"? What the fuck is wrong with him? _

As Steve inwardly scolds himself for his pathetic social skills, Bucky begins, "So, uh, d-do you wanna head out now?"

At his tone, Steve looks up at Bucky's face. Is Bucky nervous? By the looks of him, Steve could swear that Bucky looks as though he's afraid that Steve will turn him down. Little does he know, that Steve couldn't turn him down in a million years.

Fueled by Bucky's apparent apprehension, Steve happily replies, "Sure, Buck. Sounds good to me."

Without another word, Bucky leads Steve to an old black beater, and opens the passenger door for him. Steve climbs in and has to slam the door a few times for it to catch, but by the time Bucky slides into the driver's seat, his door managed to stick.

The ride to wherever they were going to practice was a silent one. Not necessarily an awkward and uncomfortable silence, but more of an easy and familiar (but still awkward) silence. Steve spends most of the ride gazing out the window, and occasionally stealing glances at Bucky's side profile. More than once, as Steve slid his eyes over to Bucky's side of the car, he would find Bucky's own eyes hastily retreating to focus on the road. Steve was much too preoccupied with the prospect of Bucky's eyes on him, to be concerned over the fact that Bucky's eyes were not always on the road.

After about 20 minutes of driving, Bucky veers the car off of the road and down a dirt road that winds into a forest. Not too long after, the car emerges onto the shore of a picturesque lake. The sun is still shining, despite the afternoon hour, and the rays are reflected in the still waters. Steve would love nothing more than to draw the scene before him, perhaps even with a shirtless Bucky lazing in the waves.

Instead of heading towards the lake as Steve suspected they would be, wordlessly Bucky grabs Steve's wrist and gently tugs him back towards the forest. After a few minutes of walking, they come to a stop and much to Steve's dismay, Bucky drops his wrist. Before them lies a small ravine, with a large tree in place connecting both sides.

As Steve took in their surroundings, he seems to have missed Bucky removing his shoes and socks. He also seems to have missed the part where Bucky told him that they were going to be participating in a trapeze act. Barefoot, Bucky carefully walks out onto the fallen tree, and with his arms out on both sides spins around to face Steve.

With a big grin on his face, he calls to Steve, "Are you coming or what?"

Never able to back away from a challenge, Steve kicks off his shoes and climbs up onto the tree. He's shakier than Bucky is at first, but after a few moments he's able to gain his balance.

With a small grin of his own, he looks up at Bucky, "Now what?"

"Now, we practice."

If he's being honest, Steve doesn't know who is standing on this log and dancing with Bucky. Because it sure as hell isn't him… Or it isn't who he thought he was. Bucky makes him feel different, like a whole new person. Someone who doesn't have to always have his guard up, someone who doesn't have to prove himself… Someone who can dance on a log, in the middle of the forest, laughing with a beautiful boy.

The thought of it makes Steve giddy, and he can't help but let out a giggle. At the sound of Steve's laugh, Bucky's eyes light up and he starts to shimmy towards Steve.

As he gets closer, Steve starts to back away, acting as though he's running away from Bucky and his rapidly moving shoulders. _Which couldn't be farther from the truth._ As Bucky finally gets to Steve, he reaches out grabbing Steve around the waist. If this were any other time, Steve would probably be focused on the feel of Bucky's hands wrapped around his waist, the way that the left side of shirt is rucked up and Bucky's pinky finger is brusing against the soft skin of his waist… But like he said, if it was any other time he'd be thinking about it. Which he's not, due to the fact that they're suspended fifteen feet above the ground.

Steve lets out a squawk of indignation and half-heartedly attempts to wriggle from Bucky's grasp. He over compensates just slightly, and it sends him reeling, his balance lost. _Fuck._ As Steve's panic starts to set in, it's almost immediately diminished by the feeling of Bucky's strong arms taking hold of his waist once more. He closes his eyes just for a moment, and lets out a shaky breath. _He did almost just possibly die, for Chrissakes. _After collecting himself, Steve raises his chin to look up at Bucky. But what he isn't expecting is for Bucky's face to be mere centimeters from his own.

Bucky leans in, just so, and his nose lightly brushes Steve's sending a shiver down his spine. Steve wasn't thinking about the feel of Bucky's hands on his waist earlier, but _dear God, he's thinking about it now. _He lets out a shaky breath, and Bucky's grip shifts on his waist, bringing them closer together-the way that their thighs are pressed together makes Steve's mouth run dry.

Bucky's eyes are focused solely on Steve's mouth, and inspired by Bucky's actions, Steve's gaze flicks down to Bucky's lips. At the sight of them, all pink and plush, Steve licks his lips unconsciously, hungry for the taste of those gorgeous lips on his own once again. Before he can comprehend what's happening, Bucky's lips are infinitely closer than they were before, and Steve thinks _how can that even be possible, when they seemed so close before, but now it feels like they were miles away? _Light as a feather, Bucky's nose brushes Steve's own, and his lips are softly pressed against his lips. Not so much a kiss, as a brush of lips, breathing into one another's mouths. As soon as they part, Bucky lets out an unsteady exhale, and then his lips are crashing against Steve's- hungry, and biting, and Steve can't help but moan into the other boy's mouth. Bucky's hands are around his waist, his shirt's rucked up with Bucky's hands sliding all over his back. Steve has always been bothered when people take advantage of his size, and treat him as though he's fragile, but with Bucky's hands spanning his waist, fingers almost touching behind him… Steve definitely does not have a problem with that, _no sir, no fucking problem at all._

It's all open-mouths, and teeth, and tongue, and Steve didn't ever think that someone would kiss him like this. Like they wanted to swallow him whole.

Feeling bold Steve threads his fingers into Bucky's hair, mussing up his perfectly styled hair and sinks his teeth into Bucky's bottom lip. Bucky gasps into Steve's mouth, and pulls Steve closer to him. The jerkiness of the movement causes them both to stumble, losing their balance.

"Fuck, fuck-_-_"

Steve's sure that they both looked ridiculous, arms pinwheeling, chanting curses as they try to find their balance. But at the present moment, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Although what he did care about was the possible outcome of him falling to his potential death, or maiming.

After a few moments, both boys managed to get themselves under control, and they both sat down on the log, legs straddling the trunk. As soon as they meet each other's eyes, they both burst into laughter, Steve clutching his chest and Bucky wiping his eyes.

"So… Next time, I think we probably shouldn't do that balancing on a log over a ravine…" Bucky manages between laughs.

Suddenly quiet, Steve peers up at him and says, "Next time? You want there to be a next time?"

Unable to look Bucky in the eyes after his question, his gaze falls back to his lap, hiding the blush on his cheeks from Bucky's searching eyes.

"Do I want- _Stevie. _Of course I want there to be a next time. If you do, of course… But if you don't wanna… I mean, we-"

"NO-" Steve can feel his face turning red at his eagerness, and he tries again, "I mean no, no, Buck… I want there to be a next time. Definitely."

Bucky grins, his face lighting up, and he responds, "'Kay, good, that's uh, that's really good, Stevie."

Steve smiles back at him, and he can't remember a time when he was happier than he is right now.

After a few moments of smiling at one another, taking the time to just _look_, Bucky stands up slowly and brushes the dirt off of his black jeans. He turns to Steve and raises an eyebrow, "You comin' or what, Stevie?"

Steve carefully rises to his feet, and asks, "Where are we going now?"

"I told ya, we're going to practice."

"But weren't we just doin' that?"

Bucky shoots him a sly smirk, gives him a once over, and says, "We're goin' somewhere else. We've gotta go practice our lift."

Steve stomach does a little flip, and he's unsure of whether or not it was from Bucky's talk of doing lifts, or the way his eyes raked up and down Steve's body. Steve thinks that it was probably the latter.


End file.
